Waking Up The Devil
by xFangtasiax
Summary: A man searching to forget finds himself WWE's chosen superstar. Tony Domenico is a drug addict suffering from PTSD & seeking his redemption in violent oblivion. But when his past returns in the form of a new Diva and Batista it changes everything. OC
1. Chapter 1

Tony clicked the pen on and off repeatedly. The noise was incessant in the cramped locker room WWE gave its midcarders. Technically he wasn't a midcarder but he was in disgrace, which amounted to about the same thing. He shrugged, so he'd sit here and deafen himself with his pen clicking, it was all the same to him. Tony'd long since stopped caring where he came in the pecking order. About the same time he'd started caring which veins were collapsed and which were still ripe for a needle.

The noise was beginning to irritate the other wrestler in the room though, he could tell. This guy really was a midcarder, Alberto Del Something Or Other He Should Have Been Listening But Was Too High. Alberto was facing away from him, dressed in just his ring trunks, his broad back showing a solid line of frustration as he kept up the clicking. Half of him dared Alberto to say something, to start a fight. He was dying to hurt something, someone, anything. It smashed against the front of his mind like a steel pipe against a wall.

**Let me out. **

He shivered, pausing briefly in the pen clicking. Alberto's spine relaxed visibly in the silence, only to snap back to rigid tension when he resumed his clicking. Tony couldnt help it. It was either click the pen with his fingers or it was smooth out the powder with his fingers, fold a hundred dollar bill with his fingers. And he was pretty sure sniffing cocaine in a WWE locker room was in violation of the goddamn wellness code. _"Fuck the wellness code" _he said aloud. Alberto choked on a half-laugh, half-cough in front of him, turning around. Tony was overcome with the urge to slam his head right back into the concrete wall, to watch the blood splatter up and fall back down. It was so strong the pen creaked in his hands, knuckles white.

**Settle. **

_"That's what got you in this mess in the first place Tony_" Alberto said. The man's accent made it come out like Ton-ee, irritating him. _"You only just got back off suspension. Don't get your ass fired"_ Alberto warned. Tony shrugged. _"You going to stop clicking that pen?" _Alberto asked, "_Nope"_ Tony replied, clicking it extra hard for good measure._ "Keeps me focused_" he added, watching it intently. Alberto turned back around, bent down to tie the laces in his boots. _"Keeps you on the planet you mean, junkie"_ he muttered. He never did finish tying the laces in his boots. Tony kicked out at the bench Alberto was sat on. He wasn't in the best position to do so and he would have hit a lot harder if he hadn't been so coked up from earlier but it did enough. Alberto fell forwards off the bench, hard onto one knee. He rubbed the offending area as he stood up, swearing a blue streak of Spanish. _"English"_ Tony reminded, _"This is America." _

_"You are the most frustrating man I have ever met, you know this?" _Alberto asked. Tony shrugged again. It was better than talking. All he wanted was to get through tonight, this damned taping they had and get back to the hotel room. He just wanted to drown everything out and see stars. Talking wasn't high on his agenda, hell, being here wasn't high on his agenda. He had no idea how he was going to wrestle. Tony had tried to stand up earlier and almost ended up on his ass. The vodka and the coke didn't gel well with his bones.

Aw, fuck it. He was gonna take the syringe in the gym bag and slide it in. No-one would notice. The place was deserted except for him and Alberto anyway. And his colleague was too busy warming up, stretching his muscles like a rookie to notice the junkie. _"Alberto"_ Tony announced, placing both hands on the bench to help himself up. His head swam and he staggered, leaning on the wall with a slur in his words, _"I'm gonna fly tonight my man." _


	2. Chapter 2

Tony stumbled out of the locker room, swinging his gym bag off his arm. He shouldn't do that really, he had no idea exactly how strong the syringes in his bag were. Shattering them wouldn't do anyone any good. But the repetitive need to do something with his hands was back, so he swung the bag.

He almost swung it right into Batista, coming up the corridor with a woman by his side. Dave stopped dead before Puma caught him and glared. "Anthony, you high again?" Tony stopped the swinging for a moment. "Who the hell calls me Anthony any more? I haven't been that since..."

All his thoughts hit a brick wall and came crashing down inside his mind. In that moment he would have hit the floor on his knees, in that moment he could have torn his eyes out, in that moment there was a screaming in his soul so loud he heard nothing Batista said. He heard not a word the woman next to him said either. He ignored her outstretched hand because he saw shadows of the dead stood at her shoulders. The syringe in his bag had never seemed so far away. Tony desperately needed it's relief, needed to find a bathroom, heck a closet would do. Just somewhere.

He hadn't been Anthony since the old man. Since the old man was gunned down. Since they got the Mob funeral fund of more money than they could dream of and the threat to keep quiet. Tony was rich. So choked full of money he didn't need to wrestle, didn't need to do anything. He was so empty inside.

Why was the woman talking to him? "Listen, buttercup, whatever you're called. I don't do human interaction. It's not you. I'm sure you're a lovely piece of ass. I just don't do the whole talking she-bang, you know?"Oops. Batista's eyes darkened. Tony had enough presence of mind to check the body language. Didn't look like they were going out together. Oh... wait. Dave had requested his best friend, a Diva from Smackdown, to be his new valet. This must be her. Of course with Dave a 'best friend' could mean anything but this one was supposed to be just that. No funny business. Tony blinked, blearily, wearily. Even in his coming down phase he thought it was odd Batista could be friends with a woman and not simulatenously be trying to bed her. He reached into his jeans pocket, drew out a Valium and popped it while talking. Batista's eyes followed the tablet. "What's that?" he questioned. Tony rolled his eyes, "A Smartie."

He swallowed the pill and looked again at the woman. When he did, the tablet caught in his throat and goddamn near choked him. Tony barely survived coughing it back up. "You" he coughed, slamming a hand into his chest to clear the Valium. It sank, mercifully, not killing him. This time. The woman shook her head, uncomprehending. She was giving him a look that said he was crazy, but he was used to that. There was no recognition in her eyes at all, but he knew every single line on her face. He'd seen it only once before but it was burned into his memory. Now wasn't the time for a flashback. Get out of here, then crash. Right now T, you need to look sharp.  
>"Sorry." He shook his head. "Thought you were someone else." Tony gave no further explanation and the woman shrugged. "It happens. People are always saying that to me." Dave looked like he was lost in thought, his face somewhere else with his eyes on the woman. Finally, he shook himself and turned back to Tony. "You're wrestling me tonight" he stated, "You gonna be ok to fight or are you going to be a risk? I don't need another injury" Dave warned. Tony held up his hands in a parody of innocence. The woman grinned. He couldn't look at her, building up a black wall in his mind shrouding her face. Not now, not yet.<p>

"I will be, as usual, the paradigm of excellence" Tony promised, hand on heart. No wait, left side of your chest. He fought the urge to salute. Dave watched him for a long beat. "Sure?" He asked. There was another long beat where Tony looked like he was thinking it over. In perfect honesty the long beat was because he'd forgotten Dave's name. When it came back to him, Tony answered. "Yes, Dave. I'm high but I'm Jeff Hardy kind of high" he replied. "Meaning you're safe and I'm still gonna take you to school." The woman laughed openly and his fingers shuddered violently as he toyed with the zip on the gym bag. Not now, not yet.

Dave grunted, smirking. "Alright. I'll take your word for it. But only cause you've wrestled wasted before and you didn't fall on your own ass." He wanted to take back the words as Tony staggered away from the wall. "My manners" Dave said suddenly, gesturing to the woman with him. Tony looked anywhere else but at her. From the corner of his eye he could see a hurt look on her face. He knew he was being rude. But he wasn't nearly immunized enough yet to deal with pain tonight and her face brought back every open wound. "This is Raven" Dave added, holding the woman's shoulder like a brother. Tony shook his head. "Isn't..." he couldnt look at her, but that wasn't her name. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Ok, you're higher than I thought. Take another downer before bell-time" Dave ordered. "No..I mean, your name.." he spoke without looking at her still, "It isn't Raven." It wasn't Raven years ago, it wasn't Raven now. The last of his control was slipping free, untethering itself. "Yeah..you're right. I'm off the planet David. Let me take another...do what you said. Catch you in the ring."

Tony broke free of the pair of them before he broke himself and careened blindly down the hallway until he saw the men's room. He crashed the door open and stumbled blindly into a cubicle. Before the partition shut he had the needle in his hand. A vein stood out sharp on the other arm as he drew back the plunger. He should clean it...knew that...needle at the wrong angle, could put an air bubble in...didn't care...there was a painful sting as the needle went in too quick, wrong angle, plunger pressed too fast. Heroin slipped into his veins, chaining his mind back down, anchoring him.

Thing is, most people take heroin to amp up, to shoot the breeze, sting like a bee, whatever kind of shit they called it. He took heroin to shut down. He. Could. Not. Feel. This. It wasn't enough, was moving too slowly. The woman's face hit his mind and he hit the floor, knocking the door with his knee as he fell awkwardly. Before the heroin hit his brain he could see the memories playing out. This was going to be a bad trip.


End file.
